Shooting Star
by Miss Wolfsbane
Summary: Beth, recently kicked out of her home, facing murder charges, and finding out that her birth name is actually Bo, runs off to Toronto where she runs into Patsy Sewer, a punk rocker desperately trying to forget her past and suppress these newfound feelings for the mysterious Bo. AU. Doccubus. Crossover with Instant Star


**Disclaimer: Neither **_**Lost Girl **_**nor **_**Instant Star **_**belong to me; they're not even from my country! I'm just playing with the characters and making no profit.**

Lauren couldn't sleep without the weight of her seatbelt tight across her chest. It was grounding; when she woke from her nightmares to the cold, dark Toronto nights, the snug fit of the belt across her pounding chest tied her to reality. She peered around the interior of her beat up Buick illuminated by the eerie cast of the street lamps, her face pale and clammy.

It had been about a year since she began living by her stage name, Patsy Sewer. It had been a bit longer since she had moved out of her house and she wouldn't have been surprised if the only reason her mother had noticed her absence was the growing pile of laundry and lack of baked goods. Contrary to her punk persona, Lauren did not leave in a haze of rage, rock and roll, and stick-it-to-the-man, but rather in the middle of the night with her ratty backpack and as much food as she could carry.

And yesterday, when she snuck out of the luau and escaped both Jamie's desperation and the bureaucratic bullshit of record labels, she returned to her haven, her baby. She had enough weenies in her backpack and didn't need anymore dickhead music producers to satisfy the ceaseless gnawing in the pit of her stomach, though the little P.R. rat seemed keenly interested in her outfit that afternoon.

As dawn broke over the city, Lauren wolfed down the tepid mini-hot dogs, briefly pausing to pick the lint off one before shrugging and shoving it down the hatch. Jude and her crew might have been vanilla as hell but they were cool enough and honestly she hadn't had so many regular meals in, well, forever.

Two trucks, two trains, and a rusted over Cadillac that reeked of weed later, and Beth had arrived in Toronto. After giving her hippie helper a charming pat on the arm, wandered around the city until she found a nice, quiet alleyway just off a busy-enough street that meant that nobody in their right mind would try to start trouble. Not that she couldn't handle herself, as she had recently learned.

Beth Dennis had always thought her strength came from her family's farm work and home-cooked meals. Her father, too, possessed a quiet strength. For his relatively small stature, his ability to throw a bale of hay into the back of the truck and to calm an anxious horse was always rather impressive. But, as she had learned that his genetics could in no way be the case, she was only left with her adopted mother's reasoning.

She was a monster.

From the pocket of her worn leather jacket she pulled a faded polaroid. Mrs. Dennis, nearly frothing at the mouth, tossed it at her as proof that Beth's freakishness was no fault of her own. She flipped the photograph over in her hands and drew her fingertips across the meticulous cursive on the back. _ Bo. The beast has a name, _she thought, bringing her hand to her throat. Her fingers caught on the necklace she hadn't even realized she was still wearing. The cross her parents gave her for her confirmation had become as integral as a birthmark to her, but now all she could feel was the silver burning into her skin. In one motion she tore the chain from her neck and tossed it down the alleyway, never to be seen again.

As Bo curled herself into a tight ball, a small, quivering voice pierced through her mind: _What if it is the devil inside me?_

**A/N: Short, I know, but I figured I'd put a feeler out to see if anybody is actually interested in reading this/where people want to see it going. I'm planning on confronting religion, specifically Christianity, to a very minor extent, but if that makes you uncomfortable, let me know or don't read.**

**~~Wolfie**


End file.
